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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25813273">Thunder</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouTheStarSpeaker/pseuds/LouTheStarSpeaker'>LouTheStarSpeaker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Thunderbirds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Brothers, Family Dynamics, Fear, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Minor Violence, gun shot wound</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:00:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25813273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouTheStarSpeaker/pseuds/LouTheStarSpeaker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it looks as though Scott's eyes have storms inside them. Now Alan knows what that feels like.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alan Tracy &amp; Scott Tracy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Thunder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsarinaTorment/gifts">TsarinaTorment</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Tsari's birthday! She asked for a story with her favorite Scotty and protective little brothers. (It got a little out of hand.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Aw, come on, John,” Alan said, working to keep the whine from his voice. “I’m wasting time just standing here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John’s hologram was tapping away at something Alan couldn’t see, lending Alan one ear while the rest of him was focused on whatever it was he was poking at. “You’re not ‘wasting time’, Alan. You’re waiting for backup.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> backup-” A pointed look from John was all it took to halt that trail of conversation. Alan sighed and switched tactics. “What if the guy’s hurt in there? I’m needed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scans show the life sign is moving around, I doubt he’s too injured. He can wait two minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about the building?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll hold.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not if there’s another quake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m monitoring seismic activity, Alan, you know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan scoffed. John with his answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The building was hardly damaged, it’d just been evacuated as a precaution. Now apparently some thrill-seeking knucklehead had wandered in, and now someone needed to get him out again. It was the most simple and straightforward mission they could’ve asked for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except Alan’s brother’s didn’t think he could do it without a babysitter. Cue the Smother Hen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was the tell tale rumble as a Pod rolled up, and out hopped Scott, probably pulled from some other more important task to chaperone his baby brother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott greeted him with a clap on the shoulder. “You ready, Alan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been ready for the past five minutes.” Alan said, latching on his helmet with more force than strictly necessary. “I thought you were supposed to be the fast one, I could’ve been in and out by now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alan.” Scott said nothing more, but stormy blue eyes made the message crystal clear. He was out of line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan’s eyes shifted the side. He was still working on separating Brother Scott from Commander Scott, that kind of snark didn’t fly when they were in the field. He made himself meet Scott’s eyes as he apologized. "Sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott nodded, the storm in his eyes retreating. “Come on, we’ve got work to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They flicked on the lights on their helmets, following John’s instructions through the apartment complex. Scott took point, Alan walked a step behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan swallowed a sigh. So maybe his delivery had been garbage, but there was more than a little truth to the fact that his brothers babied him. Alan was the youngest of the family, he got that, watching out for him was practically in his brothers’ job descriptions. And at home? Sure, whatever, they could coddle him all they wanted, he was used to it and knew when to push back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But out here in the field? Alan had a new role. He was a member of International Rescue, and with the exception of Scott he was their equal. Their familial hierarchy shouldn’t matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John led Alan and Scott up numerous flights of stairs, landing them on the fifth floor. Besides his direction and Scott’s affirmative, not much else was said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They rounded a bend and there was their guy, just like John had said. The hall was dark, and the man, who’d had his back toward them, rounded as soon as their lights landed on him. Even under the bright beam of light, the man visibly blanched as he took in their uniforms. Guess he was just now realizing how much trouble his daredevil stunt had landed him in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Alan held out a hand in a placating gesture. “Come on, we're not here to take you in or anything-” Alan bumped into Scott’s arm as his older brother stopped him from taking a step forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan looked up at him in confusion (surely Scott would let him do this much), and was startled to find another storm brewing in his brother’s eyes, his stare fixed on the man in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shift in Scott’s flashlight and Alan zeroed in on a large duffle bag and crowbar, settled at the man’s feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A looter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man seemed to know the moment Alan realized what he was, his face turning from pale to red in the space of a few moments. “You two, you leave me alone, y’hear? Just leave me alone!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice was loud. Too loud for the quiet hallway, too loud for a man who stood up to his military brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir, you need to come with us.” Scott held out a hand, much like Alan did, trying to calm the blustering man. The other hand, the one that had stopped Alan, moved slowly- ever so slowly- to the comm on his baldric.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy caught Scott’s movement. “You think I don’t see what you’re doing?!” He was practically raving now, spittle flying from his mouth and catching the beam of the flashlights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gathering his bravery and pushing down his disgust, Alan tried again, willing his voice steady. “Sir, we're not law enforcement-” Again Scott stopped him, this time from even speaking, with a tight hand around his bicep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan’s heart dropped to his stomach, his blood turning cold. He knew that gesture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott had used it when Alan was little, to stop him right before he was about to run into the street without looking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d used it again to yank him out of the way of snarling teeth, when a pair of angry dogs had set their sights on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another time, a tight grip in warning, when a man had walked up to them in the park, claiming to be their father’s friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That gesture meant danger. Danger they hadn’t expected. Danger they weren’t prepared for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And here, this must be what Scott had seen all along, why he wouldn’t let Alan get closer, even by a single step. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man pulled a gun from his pocket, flicked off the safety, cocked the hammer, and aimed it at Alan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott’s grip tightened like a vice on his arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man’s voice was a growl low in his throat. “Don’t. Say. Another. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Word</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” His hand shook, but his finger twitched on the trigger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand on Alan’s arm was shaking too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His pulse pounded in his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched a bullet of sweat drip down the man’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man who was pointing a gun at his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott moved, slowly, carefully. Alan knew it even though he couldn't look away from the barrel, even though the fear of it was threatening to crush the air from his lungs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott had a storm in his eyes, and that storm had the man pinned. He wasn’t watching Scott’s hand move toward his comm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then the man’s eyes- his awful, awful eyes, that were everything Scott’s weren’t, vile and bulging and listless- they flickered, ticked away for an instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he saw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man closed his eyes as he pulled the trigger, arm recoiling, hand shaking even worse now. He screamed something. Words. But Alan never heard them, because Scott screamed too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand on Alan’s arm fell away, the rest of his brother falling with it. Alan heard his heart shatter when Scott hit the floor, the shards of it stabbed at his lungs and he wondered how his breath and his pulse were both rushing in his ears when there was nothing left to propel either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then the man raised his gun again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan saw red, and he wasn’t sure if it was anger or fear or </span>
  <em>
    <span>please not blood, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but this man was not going to do it </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Alan shouted. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>No!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped between his brother and the monster, arms outstretched as if he could stop the next one, as if he could catch the bullets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You give me your belts!” The man was yelling- </span>
  <em>
    <span>screaming</span>
  </em>
  <span>, red-faced and slurring his words together like a drunk. “You give me your belts, right now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put the gun down first!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan was terrified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The belts!” The gun shook wildly. “I’ll shoot him again! I will!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan believed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay! Okay!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And don’t you dare call anyone!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan undid the buckles on his baldric, one by one. He was surprised he even managed, his hands were shaking as bad as the monster’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You throw it over there! Next to the wall!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now you get his! And you don’t call anybody with it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan spun quickly, crouching next to Scott on the floor, shaking hands on his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t be dead please don’t be dead please don't be dead please don’t-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Blue eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blue eyes with a storm and blue eyes that were pained, but blue eyes that saw him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blue eyes that were alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scott,” Alan was positive he was crying. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Scott</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. It’s okay, Allie. It’s okay.” Scott gritted the words out from between his teeth, but they somehow still sounded soft to Alan’s ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give me the belt!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan jumped violently at the sound of the man’s voice, but Scott’s eyes grounded him. He needed to check the wound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott’s hands were clamped around his thigh, red spilling from between the cracks in fingers. Alan had dressed wounds before, but somehow knowing someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> this to Scott made it look ten times worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Get me the belt!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan jumped again, shutting his eyes as if that would stop the voice. It didn’t, but at least Scott’s voice joined it. Gentle, furious, terrified… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alan.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His name was as much of a warning as the hand on his arm had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do what you’re told, Alan.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With a shuddery breath Alan undid Scott’s baldric, muttering </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry sorry sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span> when Scott winced or hissed in pain. A gentle, gentle tug and it was free. Alan stood, trying not to think how slippery the material felt in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now you toss it over there! With the other one!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan did. His brother’s baldric matched his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the gun turned away from him and his brother. The man aimed his weapon at the baldrics and fired, Alan jumping at the awful sound of it, but the bullet did little damage. Brains was a brilliant engineer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man swore angrily, shooting again and again, the many gunshots sounding like one continuous explosion, and Alan stood terrified willing it to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop stop stop</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he didn’t stop. The man fired over and over, round after round, until the baldrics were smoking and sparking. Until his bullets ran out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there was a click. Out of ammo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fury replaced helplessness in an instant and before Alan knew what he was doing, he was silent and charging, anger crackling in his limbs like lightning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lunged for the gun hand first, jabbing a pressure point and sending the weapon skittering across the floor and out of sight. A knee in the gut had the man gasping, backing up to get more space. Alan took the opportunity to make for his baldric. One glance told him the comms units were destroyed, but the med packs were still intact and Alan dug through the pockets for a sedative. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alan!” Scott’s warning was followed by a solid thump as he tried and failed to stand, but it was enough for Alan to roll out of the way before a crowbar swung through the air where his head had been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man swung wildly, cursing and spitting. His anger made it easy for Alan to dodge, he danced neatly backward on light feet waiting for the man’s frustration to build. The man swug the crowbar wide, and Alan moved in close, exploiting the opening, ducking under the return blow and delivering two deft punches to his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could recover, Alan spun out of the man’s space, landing behind him and jabbing at a pressure point in his shoulder. The man dropped the crowbar with a yowl of pain and a string of curses. A swift kick between his shoulder blades finished the job, sending him careening into the wall and knocking him out as his head collided with the plaster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan scrambled for his baldric, retrieved a sedative, and delivered enough to keep the guy asleep for hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only then did Alan realize his lungs were burning as if he hadn’t breathed the entire time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was quite possible he didn’t. The entire fight took less than a minute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alan!” The struggle in that call indicated Scott was trying to get up again, and Alan grabbed their baldrics and rushed to his brother’s side before he could injure himself further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay still, Scott.” Alan said, placing a hand on his brother’s chest. Scott’s eyes were getting foggy from the bloodloss, and the fight seemed to drain out of him once Alan appeared in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Allie?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan almost laughed at the obscurity of that question from the one who’d been shot, but at the same time, the predictability of it was oddly comforting. “That guy never touched me, Scotty.” A glance at Scott’s leg wound had Alan grimacing and he set to work treating it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you-?” Scott started, but broke off with a hiss as pain shot up his leg. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Alan murmured, before finishing Scott’s thought. “Take down the guy?”  The corner of his mouth tilted up, but the expression was edged in too much steel to be called a smile. “How do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the obvious Scott had never considered. “Kayo. Thank God for her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Alan said softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott’s eyes wandered away from Alan to the man he’d subdued, still slumped near the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His baby brother had done that.  Had </span>
  <em>
    <span>faced</span>
  </em>
  <span> that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott’s heart squeezed, and he wasn’t sure if it was pride or terror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan packed the wound and delivered pain meds, but besides that there wasn’t much he could do. He pulled off his bloodied gloves, glad he was done but at a loss of what to do with his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They shook when Alan stopped moving them. His whole body buzzed with energy he hadn’t used, like thunder rolling through him, felt but unseen. Alan wondered if he were to look in a mirror if he’d find that his eyes contained a storm like Scott’s did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A glance at his brother found that those eyes had fallen closed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wake up, Scott,” Alan said urgently, tapping against the side of his face until blue peered up at him, hazy but there.  “You can’t go to sleep”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t asleep,” Scott said, his words beginning to slide into each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’ve gotta stay that way until the others get here.” They’d been radio silent for way too long, John must have sent Virgil and Gordon by now. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to wait too long. Alan had done his best, but really Scott needed Virgil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alan sighed, looking down at Scott’s face, pale and grimacing. He was obviously still feeling the pain despite the meds. He didn’t complain though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, Scott,” Alan said, gently lifting Scott’s head and settling it in his lap, figuring he was more comfortable than the linoleum. Alan spoke softly to keep him awake, and began to run his fingers through Scott’s hair, like Scott had done to him countless times. His big brother didn’t protest, and though Alan wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing, he was happy to keep his hands moving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minutes passed before the hall began to rumble and Alan’s first fear was an earthquake, but then found he recognized the cadence of the reverb.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Two.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Late that night, Alan crept into the infirmary with a blanket over his shoulders. He bypassed the bed where Virgil was snoring away. He’d spent the night there to keep an eye on Scott  for his own piece of mind. Alan understood that reasoning well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott was sitting up in his own bed, facing the window and the tropical night outside. Alan didn’t make a sound, he was sure, but Scott seemed to sense him anyway and turned to face him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blue met blue and Alan gave a deep sigh, allowing the tension winding up his muscles to fall away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clear skies.</span>
</p>
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